Samhain's coming...

... Looks like we've got another long weekend ahead of us! We've certainly been spoilt lately, haven't we! Not that I'm complaining, I'd love a three day weekend every week, but I'm afraid that's not in the offing.

It should be nice though, and it's great because it coincides with Samhain here in the Southern Hemisphere, so I can celebrate without having to worry about going to work the next morning. There's nothing worse that knowing that you've got to get up early the next day and drag your sorry butt into the office, it really kills the mood.

I'm not sure what I'll do yet, perhaps invite over a few friends from the pagan study group I sometimes go to. It's getting nice and cold so we can light a fire on the back verandah (in a brazier, not just on floorboards), and have some Samhain fun! I'll have to hunt up some autumnal type foods for the feast, maybe even do a bit of a roast!

I just wish I could get carving pumpkins around this time of year! You can get them in October of course, but not now. Perhaps I should consider growing a vine in the back corner of my garden. Okay! You can stop the laughing! I know I've got about as much chance of winning the lotto as making something grow on purpose (it's always the things I don't intend to grow that flourish, like that vine that found it's way in my kitchen window and crept along my ceiling) but there's no need to rub it in.

I suppose I could make do with a jap pumpkin or a blue, but they're so hard to carve! I remember when Doofus used to carve a pumpkin every Halloween (back before you could buy the proper carving pumpkins) and he'd come so close to cutting his own hand off trying to carve one of those Queensland blues. Got to give him credit though, the pumpkin would always look great when he'd finished.

I hope you all have a wonderful Samhain, or Beltane as the case may be...

Warning: whinge ahead...

... I went everywhere this afternon. I think I actually covered at least 10 suburbs. I wish I could say it was in aide of something exciting, or at least interesting, but I'd be lying. You see, the reason I took my car on a two hour detour from work to home was because I was looking for an automatic tellar machine.

I know this should have been a relatively simple process, but you'd be surprised just how difficult it can be to find one of those damned things that's in working order on a Friday afternoon! You'd think the banks would consider this wouldn't you, maybe take into consideration the fact that it's Friday afternoon, perhaps a few people are going to be coming along and pulling their entire pay packets out to splurge at the pub/movies/restaurant/casino/brothel, but for some reason the banks haven't seen fit to do this.

The first machine I pulled up at was midway between work and home, which is a fifteen minute drive at the worst of times. It looked fine, until I tapped the number in and was cheerfully told that they didn't have any twenties, so I'd have to make my request in fifties. I was happy to comply, only to be told they were out of fifties and would I please make my request in twenties!

So giving that machine up as a lost cause, I hopped back into the car and went in search of another one. It's not an easy task, people! There are plenty of machines scattered all over the place, but you've got to find one that's accessable, takes your type of card and has somewhere you can easily park in peak hour. So it was about twenty minutes before I found another one that fit the bill.

This one didn't even let me get to the point of entering an amount, it just told me flat out that it was out of service. Okay, I thought, I can handle this. It's just broken and I'll have to find another. But of course with every minute that passed, the Friday afternoon peak hour traffic was getting thicker and thicker. And I don't do peak hour traffic well. Not at all.

So another fifteen minutes and I'd reached the third tellar. This one I had high hopes for because it was in a little known shopping complex that's never too busy and always has lots of parking spots. Imagine my surprise, however, when I got to the spot in the wall where the machine should have been, only to find a huge gaping hole! The workman standing beside it informed me that he'd ripped the damned thing out only half an hour before. Oh...kay!

Luckily forth time's the charm. It took another twenty minutes and a bit of fussing around with parkinig, but I finally found a machine that had money, wasn't out of service and hadn't been ripped from it's wall. Yay me! Of course, by this time I was so far away from home it took me a good hour (still in the middle of peak hour traffic) to get home again.

I guess it just goes to show you can't trust those banks. From now on I think I'll do the only sensible thing ... I'll keep all my money buried in a jar in the backyard...

My spook free home...

... I was just reading an entry by one of my favourites and he was talking about how he's staying in a genuine, honest to goodness haunted house. Sounds like fun, one of those big old country places just like the one in the Amityville Horror movie he says. Sounds like just the sort of place you'd expect to be haunted, doesn't it.

It got me to thinking and I realised that it's been almost five years now since I've lived in a haunted house. The fibro shack, despite it's cheap rent and absentee landlady, is decidedly lacking in spooky activity. I know most people would consider that to be a positive selling point, but I can't help missing the "ghostly activity" just a wee little bit.

It used to be quite common for the TV to change chanels by itself. Or for the shampoo bottles to randomly fall off the bench and into the shower recess. Not to mention the occasional view of something sitting on the stairs or peering through the back door. Disembodied footsteps, things being moved around, lights turning themselves on and off, these were all common, daily occurrances that I'd grown used to.

But now I live in a completey ghost-free zone. No more taps on the shoulder from someone who isn't there. No more glimpses of someone rounding the corner. I remember discussing it once with the woman who lives in the other side of the duplex and she agreed that it was strange. Apparently she's used to places with at least a few spooks too.

It's weird though, even in places that aren't blatantly haunted, I can normally still sense something. I can only assume that, at some point in the past, someone has cleansed the house of unwanted energies. I know that one of the past tennants was a friend of a friend, and from the sounds of it it's the sort of thing she'd do. I know most people would look on that as a positive thing, but I always liked the feel of things that weren't there. I guess I'm odd that way...

Picnic in the park...

... Can you think of a better day to spend a lovely autumnal public holiday than with half a dozen good friends, a pile of sandwiches, chocolates and chips, and three picnic blankets? I can't.

As is our usual custom for public holidays, the gang decided to head over to T and B's house yesterday for a picnic in the park that's just down the road from them. It really is the most adorable little spot, a little triangle of land in the middle of suburbia with no main roads so we didn't have to worry about car fumes.

We didn't do anything particularly interesting, or talk about anything important, but it was just nice to sit around for three hours, chatting and joking about useless things. We did discuss the fact that I've decided to take them all to Pub Trivia as our going-out-for-my-birthday thing. Normally I'd pick a restaurant, but I thought a change of pace would be nice. Besides, most of them have never done pub trivia before, and I personally think everyone should experience it at least once in their lives.

So when the conversation turned to that, we started discussing what our team name should be. There was a lot of debate over it and everyone thought their idea was the best. B was anamant that we should be called the Harlotts (I'm sure T and S, both guys, would love that). I think it was K who suggest Trivia Virgins, but given the fact that I've been attending trivia for years, and I know T and B have gone a few times, it didn't seem accurate.

In the end it was T who suggested we call ourselves One Night Only. Everyone liked it, and it was true. We were only going to go for one night. So decision made. And it only took about an hour, a bit of a record for us.

At one point during the picnic we were treated to a bit of a show. One of the houses facing the park sprang to life and all the kids living there piled out and started running up and down the street yelling "Michael! Michael!". At first we assumed they'd lost one of their brothers, but when one of them came over to ask if we'd seen a little white dog with a red collar called "Sparkles", well that made more sense. I'm not sure how we got Michael out of Sparkles though.

I'm not sure if they even found the dog, but there was plenty of drama unfolding. At one point one of the little ones started running down the street full pelt, no doubt in search of Sparkles, and straight towards a main street. You could see the mother turning white from fifty metres away. Luckily Dad ran after him and stopped him from going full pelt into the middle of oncoming traffic.

Once we'd eaten our sandwiches and lounged around for as long as we wanted (and once T had his obligatory go on the swings) we headed back to T and B's place for chocolate cake, baked that morning by B.

All in all , a very nice, unstressful day.

You know it's funny, I was reading some random entries earlier and I came across one from a young girl, 13 years old I think, who was writing about the problems she's having with her friends. Just the usual stuff, god knows I had those problems too at her age. I remember being in highschool, and T, KS, J and K were all my friends back then too, and sometimes it seemed that your closest friends could become your worst enemies without a moments notice. Not that I'm holding any special priviledge for myself, I'm sure I wasn't any particular pleasure. I guess it's the age, there's nothing more vicious than a teenager.

But it just made me want to tell her that if she only holds on, and waits for her mates to grow up a bit, she'll hopefully end up with life long friends. I know I did...

Kelstar's tattoo parlour...

... Is there a 12 step program for e-bay addicts? Cause if there is, I think I might need to start attending the meetings. Or at least google it and get the basics.

KS is also getting to be quite the ebay shopping monster, but at least she's going there with a definite idea of what she wants to buy. When I go to ebay, I just end up wandering around in there aimlessly, clickin on anything that takes my fancy. And believe me, the stranger it is the more I want it.

Quirky slogan t-shirts, antique pottery, shady looking electrical equipment and vintage jewellery, I've been known to lust after them all. I've tracked auctions for things like gnome doors (teeny little wooden doors you stick to a tree to make it look like a gnome lives inside) and even 11 kilograms of Australian pennies, only to have to physically restrain myself from actually buying this useless rubbish!

Can you believe that I actually considered putting a bid on a tattooing gun? It was an opening bid of a dollar with no reserve, and no one had even bid on it! I don't know how to tattoo, I'm a rubbishy artist, and I doubt I'd find anyone to let me practice on them, but I still considered bidding.

I can just see it now, "Kelstar's Tattoo Parlour". Maybe I could specialise in drawing little flowers around people's freckles! I've had heaps of practice doing them in pen around my own when I'm bored during staff meeting. But then again I doubt there's anyone out there stupid enough to let me within ten metres of them with a tattoo gun. I know I wouldn't if I was in their positions.

But in the end I managed to talk myself out of bidding. Almost every artsy project I've begun has ended in disappointment, tears or structural damage. My kitchen floor is a vivid (not to mention costly to repair) testament to what can happen when Kelstar is bored and had access to paints and brushes. Imagine the damage I could have done if I'd had a tattoo gun at my disposal! No, I think it's best for all concerned that I didn't place that bid...